Park chat and Bertie update

As I was being photo-bombed by some park pals on a cloudy Sunday morning, their owners were chatting to Gail. 

They complimented Gail on how fit I looked and what a handsome dog etc. (They don't know about my 'peeing issues'.)

You'd think Gail would be pleased by such comments but I noticed a look of distress flicker across her face before she put on her customary smile and said thank you.

PS from Gail: After a long discussion on Friday with Mar, Bertie's caring and thoughtful vet, she concluded "it might be time to let him go".  It's an agonising choice I have to make, as Bertie still can appear quite well, but so clearly isn't. We continue to take things a day at a time. 

"He eez doing amazing"

Gosh our humans sometimes get all worked up about not very much, don't they?

So OK, I'll concede I might have been acting a bit strangely earlier this week, although I would dispute Gail's claims that I was "totally out of it" and "staggering around like a drunken zombie".

Anyway, despite the fact that by yesterday I was feeling a whole lot livelier and no longer nauseous, Gail took me to visit my nice Spanish vet Mar. (Well she's nice when she's not sticking things up my bum.)

After examining me carefully - weight, temperature, heart, abdomen, eyes, the rear end business etc. - and reviewing my urine analysis results and her notes on how my condition has evolved since the bladder tumour (TCC) diagnosis last September, Mar pronounced the following verdict:

"He eez doing AMAZING!"

So to all my dear friends who expressed concern after reading Gail's post yesterday, I just want to say Thank You and Panic Over.

Animal encounters about town

First some artistic graffiti.

Yes I really was made to pose beneath a C-A-T....

The horror.

Much more to my liking was next day's encounter with these three handsome huskies.

For a moment I thought it was our blogging pals Lightning, Timber and Misty.

PS from Gail: I took Bertie to the vet for a blood test yesterday. No new symptoms, but he's now been taking the Previcox tablets for his bladder tumour for six months so the vet wanted to check there are no adverse effects on his kidney and liver function. Bertie seems to be doing so well on this medication, so all paws and fingers crossed that the test results, due later today, are OK. 

Who needs scales?

I just want you to know that when I went for my annual booster shot and general check up earlier this week, nice vet Lyndsey felt my body all over and said to Gail: "No need for me to put this fine chap on the scales. I can tell his weight is just perfect".

My paws were given a clean bill of health too.

Treats please!

Diagnosis: dainty feet

No soon as I'd settled myself back at home in Aberdeen, than I was bundled into the car first thing Tuesday morning and told we were going on some sort of a 'special' visit to Glasgow.

I should have realised it was not going to be a good sort of 'special' when Gail refused to give me any breakfast.

After hours of driving, and some not very polite language from behind the steering wheel as we negotiated the complex tangle of city centre motorways, Gail pulled up on this rather unpromising looking street.

We then went for a short walk around the neighbourhood and for a moment I got quite excited when I spotted the famous Ibrox stadium, thinking perhaps we were headed for an 'Old Firm' football game, and wishing I knew the lyrics to 'The Sash'.

But then we turned around and I was directed up the steps of a fine sandstone terraced building.

And the reason for the 'special' trip became clear.

I confess, having seen the other patients in the waiting room, to being somewhat relieved when I was quickly ushered in to the office of dermatology specialist Peter Forsythe.

Gosh Mr Forsythe asked a lot of questions about my paws. He tried to examine the pads, although I was not too keen on that idea. He observed that I have very compact, dainty feet, well formed but with deeper clefts between the pads than is common, and this combined with the abundant wiry fur between the pads means that mud and dirt gets impacted (despite daily paw washes) and this is likely the root cause of my interdigital cysts.

He said it wasn't worthwhile testing for allergies as I didn't have any other symptoms of 'atopic dermatitis'.

He said a lot more stuff too, which I can't quite remember.

Then Gail abandoned me (again!) and things went a bit blurry for a couple of hours. On waking up, my paws felt oddly clean and bare, the fur between the pads having been trimmed away.

And so ended my 'special' day in Glasgow.

PS from Gail: Bertie's frequently recurring problem with inter-digital cysts prompted the regular vet in Aberdeen to refer Bertie to a dermatology specialist. I had expected the specialist to test Bertie for allergies, but he explained carefully why he thought that the problem lay elsewhere, saying that an allergic condition would affect more that just Bertie's feet, and in fact the rest of his skin is in great condition. So the current theory is that dirt combined with hair gets impacted in the deeper than normal clefts between Bertie's paw pads and 'foreign bodies' enter his feet causing an inflammation reaction which manifests itself as swellings (the so-called interdigital cysts) on the upper side of his paw. Until now, I had been concentrating on washing the upper side of Bertie's paws but the new instruction is to try to clean the undersides thoroughly too, still using the antimicrobial solution 'Hibiscrub' (containing chlorhexidine) as before. I am not confident that Bertie will cooperate with a routine of rigorous washing between his pads. We shall see… The situation will be reviewed again in a couple of months. I'm pleased to report that, at least for the moment, Bertie is walking fine and his paws are not swollen.

A trip to the vet / recuperation in Torridon

First things first: I know some of my kind friends are anxious to hear the latest on my poorly paw and what happened at my appointment with the vet on Thursday evening.

Well my vet, whose name is Katrine, agreed with Gail (and me) that the horrid Apoquel tablets were not doing me any good at all, and so I have stopped taking them. Katrine is concerned that my sores are still seeping and apparently infected, despite three weeks on antibiotics. So eventually I allowed her to take a 'swab', which is being sent off to a lab for testing, and I may get a different antibiotic when the results come back. I do not have a high temperature - I will not go into how she found that out...

For the itchiness, apparently there is another medication I could try, but in fact my paws are not as itchy as they were and so we are "seeing how things go"  this week.

Needless to say, the frequent paw washing continues.


Perhaps you will have figured out from nice view behind the sink that we are at the Torridon cottage for the weekend. Hooray!

It is true that I still do not feel like walking very far, so when we woke up this morning and saw the weather was, for mid-February in NW Scotland, quite spectacularly lovely and sunny, I suggested Gail go for a walk by herself, and maybe take some pictures to show me later. I know from experience that if Gail does not get her regular outdoor exercise, she can become grouchy alarmingly quickly. And as for myself, I envisaged a few hours happily curled in front of the wood-burning stove, dreaming of my forthcoming date with Nurse Addi....

So this is the photo Gail came back with.


It only took a momentary glance for me to realise that this would not do at all. Something important was missing! It is part of our unwritten contract that this blog supplies its readers with pictures of our stunning Scottish landscape, but also that these should where possible be enhanced by the presence of a certain handsome wire-haired fox terrier.

What to do? A dilemma indeed.

In the end I persuaded Gail to take me for an afternoon drive around Loch Torridon, stopping at various scenic spots so I could pose for photos which might meet the high standards my friends have come to expect, without me having to hobble too far.

I hope the results are to your liking.


 
 
 


Last but not least. A most generous spirited and thoughtful blogging friend took pity on me for having to wear the dreaded 'lampshade' and sent me this soft collar all the way from France Profonde. It is super comfy, and came ready decorated with a few furs which may possibly once have been attached to a much loved PON.
 

The collar is very chic, don't you think?

I am wondering, if I were to accessorize it with a black beret, then might someone reward me with a wee sliver of croissant...?

Not so sure about this Apoquel stuff...

The vet gave me some new pills last week, a drug called Apoquel, to calm down my inflamed paws. (Both front paws are now affected with these horrid interdigital cysts.)

I took my first tablet on Wednesday evening, with my meal, and it slipped down nicely. But in the middle of the night, I started to feel queasy and my supper reappeared in slightly altered form on the bed I share with Gail.

When Gail woke up in the morning she didn't seem too happy. 

But she gave me another tablet in the morning, and went to work looking worried, leaving me in my lampshade.

By midday when my dog walker George arrived I had 'decorated' my lampshade with my regurgitated breakfast. I totally refused to go out for a walk with him.

A little bit later my nice neighbour Neil came over and carried me across the road to his and Yvonne's house. I like it there, and I even roused myself for a few minutes to explore their back garden.

When Gail turned up later, muttering something about a busy project at work, I thought she might have sprouted a few additional grey hairs.

She did cook me a nice dish of chicken and rice, and gave me another of these tablets.

Since then, I have been having chicken and rice and Apoquel twice a day but I must say my paws are still very itchy and very sore, and I have been feeling so tired and generally unwell these last couple of days that I can't even be bothered to follow Gail around the house like I usually do when she is at home. I just lie immobile on the sofa, feeling sorry for myself. 

As for walks, well NO THANK YOU!

I guess Gail doesn't like her new grey (strictly 'even greyer') look because I heard her say on the phone to a friend that she is "tearing her hair out"...

Oh and apparently I am due to visit the vet again on Wednesday.

PS from Gail: A big thank you to all of you who responded to my last blog post with helpful suggestions. I do appreciate your advice and support. I am trying soaking his paws in warm water and Epsom salts (which he seems to find soothing at least), and am reconsidering his diet. Bertie has had these interdigital cysts before, but has never been as lame or miserable as he is just now. I shall continue giving him the Apoquel tablets until we next see the vet, but as far as I can tell they are not doing him any good at all. It has been a difficult week.

Oh woe is me...

I regret to report that my interdigital cyst problem has suddenly flared up again, and my left front paw REALLY REALLY REALLY HURTS.

Oh I am feeling so sorry for myself (as only dogs can, Gail says).

First thing this morning when Gail took me outside for a 'comfort break' I did not even want to walk down the steps from our front door to the street so she carried me.

I then hobbled three legged to the nearest tree, cocked my leg as usual, and promptly toppled over.

Four legs good, two legs bad.

That it was a frosty morning, and slippery underpaw, did not help, obviously.

After a few more attempts, I figured out how to keep my balance, and at least avoided the humiliation of having to squat like a girl.

We went to the vet this afternoon. It was a battle of strength and wills as Gail put me in a stranglehold, and vet Katrine grabbed my poorly paw, and I squealed and squirmed as she squeezed hard on the swollen bit, and blood and pus spurted out leaving surgery looking like the aftermath of a terrorist massacre.

Gail said it was a flow rate to gladden the heart of a North Sea oil explorer...

I came home with some painkillers and antibiotics and I am hoping I'll be feeling better tomorrow.

Bertie is working hard (bless his cotton socks)

I want you to know that I have been working hard analysing the data you all so kindly provided for my Pee-hD thesis. Gosh, when I asked you to tell me how long you can go without needing a 'comfort break', for sure it was like I tapped into a full bladder of information and it all came gushing out...

I am aiming have my thesis ready to present (and defend) on Monday 21 November.

If you are wondering why I am wearing these silly socks, well it is 'cos this week  I have had another flare up of the horrid interdigital cyst problem I get from time to time. Gail is making me wear the socks indoors to stop me licking and chewing my paws.

I was limping so badly earlier in the week I even had to go to the vet. Can you believe, she actually wanted to touch my paws, despite them being ever so sore! I was prescribed some antibiotics and anti-inflammatory tablets.  By this morning my feet were feeling a bit better and I enjoyed a wee run in the park before knuckling down to my research.

Bertie is mystified...

You know, out and about in Aberdeen this week, I have been seeing this flag a lot.

Does anyone have any idea why?

PS from Gail: some of you have been wondering about Bertie's health, and if has recovered from his gastroenteritis. Well the short answer is yes his tummy troubles are better thank goodness, but the longer answer is that he has in general been very up and down these last few weeks, with low energy levels and also intermittent lameness. This is not the Bouncing Bertie I know. On Monday night this week he was very uncomfortable and developed a tremor, so on Tuesday I took him back to the vet. She examined his legs and feet, and did some blood tests but she couldn't detect anything amiss other than slightly elevated white blood cell levels which she attributed to residual infection or inflammation. She prescribed antibiotics and anti-inflammatory medication and he seemed a bit better next day. Then on Friday I spotted an interdigital cyst on his front left foot (something he has had before) which would explain the lameness, except that it was a different leg, the rear left one, that was lame towards the end of last weekend's Balmoral walk, and I still can't spot a cyst or any other problem there, and neither did the vet. At least the tremor has not returned. For the moment he is getting short walks, frequent gentle paw washing in Hibiscrub antimicrobial skin cleanser, and wearing a sock to try to stop him licking the paw when I'm not around. His energy levels are still well below normal.  (After an unwise 3 a.m. symptom googling session on Monday night I began to wonder about Lyme disease as, despite Frontline treatment, Bertie does occasionally pick up ticks over in Torridon and they are hard to spot through his fuzzy furs. However, the vet thought it "not the first thing we would investigate" which I took as a polite reprimand for my attempt at diagnosis via early hours internet search!)  Anyway, he still has a week's worth of medication and we'll see how things go. 

Bertie enjoying a gentle late evening (9:30pm) stroll and sniff

Feeling a bit out of sorts

I'm sorry to report, dear friends, that I wasn't feeling my usual bouncy self last week.

Gail says that I was reminding her of Eeyore in Winnie the Pooh, with the mournful eyes and the morose and self pitying demeanour. And truly, when asked how I was feeling, the response, "not very how", seemed quite apt (although rest assured that, unlike Eeyore, I most definitely - and thankfully - had not lost my tail). 

So bowls of food went uneaten, and parks went unvisited and on Friday I was finally taken to the V.E.T.  

Who said I was running a high temperature (I shall spare you the details of how she found that out…) and probably had 'gastroenteritis'. She said it might be viral or it might be bacterial but she'd give me some antibiotics as a precaution. At which point I thought about entering into a scientific debate about the pros and cons of antibiotic use in these circumstances, and considered quoting Lord O'Neill's recent report on the issue and asking for a test. But to be honest I didn't quite have the energy for it, and neither, apparently, did Gail.

So anyway, after a weekend of light meals of chicken, plain rice and tablets, I am now feeling distinctly better, if not quite yet back to peak bouncing capacity. 

A wee nose hat?

That's what the vet said she was going to strap around my head before giving me my annual health check and vaccinations.

A 'wee nose hat' indeed. The cheek of it!

And then she tried to make up for the insult to my person by telling Gail what a fine, healthy and muscular chap I am (as if we didn't know that already).

Well Gail might have been glowing with pride but it was going to take more than a few nice words and a gravy bone from the vet to restore my equanimity after all the poking and prodding.

Humph.


PS: It's not too late for you to write a reference in support of my 'Scotland AmbassaDog' application (see previous post for detail). And thank you so much to everyone who has already been so kind as to comment in such a lovely, and helpful, manner.

PPS: Oh I am once again SO EXCITED!  Gail and I are going to visit a Very Special Blog Friend this weekend. I wonder if you can guess who that might be?

In the wars

I had a wee argument with Gail, my 'owner', about the content of today's post.

You see, I wanted to tell you about some health problems I've been having lately. But Gail said that I shouldn't bore everyone with these issues as they are not too serious, and why not show some nice photos from our recent weekend in Torridon instead?

I countered that certain other members of her family never hold back when it comes to discussing their ailments at great length, so why should I be expected to behave differently?

To which Gail replied, OK Bertie, you have a point.

So we agreed a compromise. I'll tell you about my sore paws and my cough, interleaved with some images from our west coast trip.

Now, you might remember I had problems with a so-called 'interdigital cyst' on my left front paw earlier in the year. Gosh, I swallowed bucket loads of anti-biotics but it just kept getting reinfected. Later, in June, another cyst thingy appeared on my right front paw this time. It was ever so painful for a while but eventually both paws healed up.

Then a few weeks ago, same thing again, left front foot. Gail knew by now that regular post-walk soaks in chlorhexidine solution were key to keeping the sore spot from getting reinfected and it went away quite quickly this time (although Gail wants me to tell you she did sacrifice going on her annual geological field trip with her colleagues to stay home and care for me at the end of September).

Just when my feet were fine again, a new trouble, I began to cough. Occasionally at first, and then more and more often. I thought that thing whereby the vet squirts horrid stuff up your nose once a year was supposed to prevent these coughs, but it seems I got the worst of both worlds this time. And Gail was all grumpy 'cos she said I kept waking her in the night. As if it were my fault. At least she got to meet some early morning guests.

BTW, the only dogs I was allowed near while I was coughing were these rather wooden fellows we spotted in a little park by a church in Keith.

I would have liked to visit with this fellow (the dog not the skeleton) last weekend, but Gail said I must keep away.

By Monday this week I'd stopped coughing and guess what?

The next day I woke up and my left rear paw was all sore. No way was I going to put any weight on it, so I made sure Gail carried me downstairs to breakfast.

And that's how things are just now. I'm told yet another trip to the vet is in the offing...

A true and scary story about a dog sitter

On two of the four days* a week when Gail is out at work, I am taken for an hour long walk at lunchtime by one of my lovely dog walkers. I would like to tell you more about them, even post some pictures, but they are internet-shy and Gail says we have to respect that.

I only bring them up 'cos I thought of them with gratitude when last week I overheard our neighbour Kirsty the vet telling Gail a really scary story involving a dog walking/sitting service.

Kirsty related how a couple had brought an adult dog into a veterinary surgery (not hers, but elsewhere in Scotland), having recently purchased the dog over the internet. It turned out that the dog was microchipped and when the person named on the microchip was contacted, she said, that can't be right, my dog is dead.

Further enquiries revealed that the previous owner had gone on holiday and left the pet in the 'care' of someone who offered a dog walking and pet sitting service. Who told her that the dog had run in front of a car when out for a walk. Who handed her a jar of ashes upon her return saying that was all that was left of poor pup.

Except for none of this was true. The wicked pet sitter had made the whole thing up and, through an intermediary, had organised the sale of the dog.

The story had a happy ending in that dog and owner were reunited and the miscreants prosecuted. We hope that the unfortunate couple who were duped out of £200 found another genuine rescue dog to bring into their home and love.

Gail and I feel so lucky in having a dog walkers whom we trust completely. (They are a husband and wife team, a retired prison officer and schoolteacher, so I do have to mind my P's and Q's…)

Oh but if only everyone understood and respected the precious bond between us dogs and our humans.


*On the other two days, Gail comes home for lunch and walks me round the block.

Grumpy human...

Gosh, do you know, before this week I had no idea what an important role I play in maintaining Gail's equable temperament and cheerful disposition.

Whilst I am delighted to report that my wound from last weekend has been healing nicely, this has only been achieved at a price. Gail and I have been trying hard to observe to vet's instructions, which limit me short walks on the lead, with a total ban on running around in the undergrowth, chasing cats, jumping on sofas and all sorts of agreeable activities.

This has been boring but, between you and me, I have been feeling kind of wiped out anyway after all the trauma of the 'incident' with Jake. Worse by far has been the effect of this lack of exercise on Gail.

You see it most in the early mornings. She leaps out of bed, all ready to go for our daily trot round the park, she grabs my lead and if she were a pup her tail would be wagging. But when I remind Gail that we are limited to a gentle stroll down the road and back, her face clouds over and later I notice she is less patient than usual when talking to her very deaf mother on the phone.

So for once I was quite relieved when, early today, I spotted her pumping up her bicycle tyres and oiling the chain. She wheeled the bike out the front door and returned four hours later, hot and sweaty but looking much calmer.

She even shared with me a photo of a not so silly sheep, taken by one of her cycling companions while out on the ride.

And later in the afternoon when Gail phoned Human Granny I heard her repeat "Bertie and I will be arriving in Nottingham on the train, at 6:30 in the evening, a week on Thursday" at least four times without sounding at all irritated.

Bad hair cut or interesting experiment?

Thank you so much again, all my dear and lovely friends, for your kind comments following last weekend's incident. Gail and I feel quite overwhelmed, and apologise that we have not had time to reply to each one individually.

I am pleased to report that I, Bertie, am on the mend. In fact I am starting to find this 'only short walks and always on the lead' regime quite irksome.

Earlier this evening I went for a quick check up and saw a different vet. She was happy with my progress, and said my notes from the weekend contained a 'graphic and gruesome' account of the state of my insides…

However, today I want to discuss the state of my outside.

It won't have escaped the notice of anyone who read my last post that I now have an interesting haircut.

Oh, you didn't notice? Here is a reminder.

As you can see, half the shaved furs around my wound were white ones and the other half were black.

Until Sunday these furs had never once been cut, only stripped. People often comment - favourably, I believe - on my distinctive black markings. WFT aficionados will tell you that cutting or shaving furs results in the black fading to a paler grey colour. But is this true?

Well now, consider this. We have perfect conditions for a fascinating scientific experiment, don't we just?

Oh won't it be exciting to watch what happens to the shaven patch as the furs grow back! What? Gail is saying "exciting like watching paint dry Bertie?" I think that is supposed to be a joke.

I am going to insist on Gail taking a photo of the patch, plus the surrounding never-shaved furs, at fortnightly intervals between now and the end of the year. I  shall publish the results of this ground-breaking research, together with the sort of rigorous analysis you have come to expect from Blogville's Chief Scientific Advisor, shortly afterwards.

I bet you can't wait.

PS Talking of colours, Gail's bruised arm is looking ever more, well, colourful…

PPS  Our Scottie friends might like this cartoon. Click here.